


Hello, Will

by borzoidt



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Nightmares, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 03:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20075353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borzoidt/pseuds/borzoidt
Summary: "Will can’t remember what he dreamt, but he can recall a particular sense of awareness that he isn’t accustomed to from his nightmares. A rush of quiet inevitability washes over Will; a cold feeling of revelation whispering at the back of his mind."





	Hello, Will

**Author's Note:**

> A short blip I wrote on impulse. This was sort of an exercise in suspense, so let me know what you think!

Will sits up, his breathing short; strained. His hair is plastered to his forehead, his body slick with sweat. Will is freezing.

Will can’t remember what he dreamt, but he can recall a particular sense of awareness that he isn’t accustomed to from his nightmares. A rush of quiet inevitability washes over Will; a cold feeling of revelation whispering at the back of his mind. Will hisses at the sudden spike of pain between his eyes. The pain only escalates. He hears a broken sob, barely conscious of the fact that he is responsible for the shuddering gasps, and thin cries.

A soft whine rings throughout the air, and Will isn’t in so deep that he can’t recognize the desperate whimpering of his dogs. Will struggles to open his eyes, the repulsive feeling of sweat pooling in his eyes, blurring his vision. Will rubs at his eyes, his hands shaking. Will can feel the familiar pressure of a dog’s front paws on his bed, and the cold wet nose of Winston nuzzling his thigh.

Will has had extensive experience with nightmares, and his dogs have never been so worked up. Will feels Zoe jump onto the bed, her small body agitated. Will smirks, stroking her. Will’s expression falls. He feels wet mud tracked by her paws; looking closer he can see it. Black smudges on his blanket. Will shivers, rubbing his arms, providing some solace for the chilled air. Chilled? Will exhales, his breath visible in the moonlight, like a particularly satisfying cigarette. Extending his gaze from the pile of dogs squirming and yipping at the foot of his bed, Will scans his home. What Will sees has him sweating again. His pulse races. He tries to swallow. He fails.

The door is open.

The door is open, and Will has no idea why. The seed of panic is planted at the base of his skull. Vines creeping down his spine, pinning him to the bed. Will becomes aware of hooves, and the paralyzing sound of an animal scenting him. The ravenstag’s invasion on Will’s plane of reality. Antlers. Silhouetted in his doorway.

“Hello, Will.”


End file.
